


SUPERLOVE

by jongleur



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut, the whole package ladies and gents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:13:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongleur/pseuds/jongleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes, during sex, harry likes to be a girl. louis is more than ok with that. </p><p>or; harry is looking for a partner to roleplay with, louis falls a little bit in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SUPERLOVE

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be just dirty smut, lingerie and dirty talking, unfortunately, it ended up being a lovefest of emotions. for that, i apologize.

it starts when harry is fourteen years old; perhaps it started earlier, much earlier, but it is at fourteen when he starts to act on it.

thing is, harry likes to be a girl.

he’s a boy, of course, and he enjoys being a boy, but sometimes. sometimes he likes to wear pretty scarves, he likes painting his nails, and he likes wearing necklaces, and bracelets, and rings.

sometimes he just likes being _pretty_.

although it’s something he fully accepts, it’s not something everyone knows. he can count the people that know about it on one hand; there’s gemma, his sister, there’s his mum, there’s his best friend zayn, and his ex boyfriend, nick.

as the years passed, harry learned he liked being a girl on bed, too. it was something he knew he couldn’t just tell anyone at a club, or at a bar; harry usually found himself in embarrassing situations more often than not.

for that exact reason, harry finds himself on craiglist (he shakes his head, _craiglist_!).

what he looks for is very simple:

_20 yr old bigender looking for man around same age. roleplaying: girl play, lingerie play. :)_

he puts his number and hopes for the best.

\--

he meets louis; he is fun, very good looking, and would like very much to _destroy_ harry.

at least, that’s what he gathers from the couple of messages they exchange before setting up a date.

louis will arrive at harry’s flat on saturday at nine pm.

harry is nervous, it’s the first time he will meet someone from off the internet, and he really, really hopes louis will not end up being some bald old man or some sixteen year old spotty boy.

when he hears the knock on his door, harry runs a hand through his curls, wipes the sweat from his hands, and takes a deep breath.

he opens the door.

\--

the first thing louis sees when the door is open are a pair of green eyes. the first thing he _thinks_ is that he wants to see those eyes _beg for it_ and ask for mercy.

he smiles and introduces himself. louis can’t help, but admire the delicious boy in front of him; he’s wearing the tightest of trousers, his skin is smooth and milky, and his lips were made for blowjobs.

louis is really nervous, he’s never done something like this before. he swipes the sweat from his hands before smiling at harry. “hi.” he waves.

harry stares for a second before shaking his head, and replying, “you must be louis.”

there’s pleasantries, of course, though both boys seem too eager, neither able to hide it.

“shall we?” louis asks in a ridiculous voice and a waggle of eyebrows.

“this way.” harry laughs.

louis thinks harry’s laugh is the best laugh he’s ever heard, and he’d like to make harry laugh endlessly, forever and forever.

but then harry is taking a hold of his hand and leading him to his bedroom.

perhaps later, louis thinks. now he would rather hear other things from harry.

\--

“sasha.” harry exhales as louis kisses his neck, then kisses his collarbone. “call me sasha.”

“sasha.” louis tries out the name. it rolls of his mouth perfectly. “such a pretty name, baby.” he keeps on nibbling on the soft skin of harry’s.

harry moans, and decides that it’s too hot  for his t-shirt. he can feel louis’ wet tongue now roaming around his chest. louis sucks on his left nipple, biting it softly, while massaging his other one with his free hand.

“sensitive are we?” louis laughs, and harry’s nipple perks up even more after that. he blows air into his wet nipples, leaving them puffy and hard, and harry wants to kill louis.

“god, yes.”

“just louis.”

harry rolls his eyes, but guides louis’ mouth into his own, and louis is more than happy to kiss him back.

“you’re really pretty, sasha. i wanna be inside of you. will you let me?”

“fuck.” harry hisses and starts rapidly unbuttoning louis’ trousers.

he can feel the heat radiating off the other boy’s body, and harry can’t believe he’s already more than hard.

louis takes his time taking off harry’s pants, all the while kissing his stomach. he’s such a tease, and if harry wasn’t completely horny and with a boner, he’d tell him fuck off.

suddenly they’re both completely naked, and harry just _wants wants wants_.

louis grabs his arse cheeks as he breathily says into harry’s ear, “i want your cunt, sasha, i wanna fucking eat you out.”

harry whimpers, and just nods along.

“ok, baby turn around for me.”

harry does so, trying to calm his nerves, he knows what’s coming and he’s both anxious and nervous as hell. louis helps him put his bum in the air, and harry feels exposed as he closes his eyes.

louis starts licking up his bum, slowly as if he  knows what this is doing to harry. he then moves slowly towards the rim, harry can feel the velvety muscle roam around his body. louis is an expert at this, harry can tell, and this fact just makes him squirm even more.

also, louis is a tease, that much harry knew by then, but the way he’s rubbing his tongue to the sides, never touching inside, is driving harry crazy.

he’s whimpering loudly now, not embarrassed to show louis what he’s doing to him.

and then.

then _fuck_ , louis tongue is inside him, in and out, in and out. in and fucking out.

“nngh. please don’t stop.” he doesn’t want louis to stop, his shivering doesn’t stop, and it’s never happened before.

“you like this?” louis asks, his breath too close to harry’s  bare chest.

“yes, yes, louis.” he hums, reverberating through both of their bodies.

louis laughs unabashedly, and harry doesn’t want him to. the fuck is that idiot doing, he needs him!

“tell me, sasha. tell me what you like.” louis’ raspy voice commands.

“i—i like your fucking tongue.”

“no _, tell me_.”

“i like you licking my cunt, louis, i like you inside me.”

instead of answering, louis goes back to harry’s arse. licking and teasing and thrusting his tongue in there like an _animal_ and harry swears, he swears he didn’t sign up for this.

harry feels a blob of spit, his hole getting cold, and then he knows what’s coming. a finger, then two, and then louis’ tongue. harry feels on the verge of tears, this possibly can’t be true. and then it stops.

harry collapses on his bed, breathing heavily before turning around and seeing louis wipe the spit drooling from his chin.

it shouldn’t be adorable, the man just had his mouth on harry’s bum, after all, but it is.

louis takes out his cock, steadily rubs it with his hand, moaning all the while looking at harry straight in the eye. harry instead grabs it and takes it into his mouth.

louis moans out loud, and harry feels a smirk coming up.

he kisses the tip, then licks in long strides the sides. when louis is breathing heavily, and grabs harry’s hair forcefully, it is then that harry swallows the cock completely, leaving almost nothing out.

“fuck, _fuck_.”

harry hums, and then takes out the hard and heavy cock from his mouth, making louis whine at the loss. there’s precome on his lips and he licks them with a smirkk, he feels accomplished.

“can’t have you coming just from that.” harry laughs, and yeah, two can play that game.

“you’re shit,” louis grumbles, “where’s the lube?”

harry motions to his drawer, and while louis goes and gets the bottle, harry makes himself comfortable: he lays like a lazy starfish, cock out and all. it really has been a while since he’s been properly fucked.

then, out of thin air, louis appears on top of him. his blue eyes are staring at harry, neither is moving, and harry can feel the shorter boy’s cock pressed up against his thigh. before doing anything, louis grinds his hips against harry’s, and the boy thinks this isn’t about who’s getting the upper hand, he just wants _louis_. then louis takes harry’s long legs and puts them on his shoulder, for seconds, the only sounds in the room are the bed sheets and their heavy breathing, almost gasping.

“here i come, baby.” louis whispers and then harry closes his eyes and anticipates the burn.

it does burn, of course, but he also feels as if he’s done this before: been with louis, and it’s comfortable and familiar. it’s hot, and with each thrust, louis grunts and harry can feel himself clench around louis.

“you’re pretty, am i making you feel pretty?” gasps louis, face contorted in ecstasy, eyes closed.

“absolutely, the prettiest.” harry cries because this is what he wanted. this is exactly what he wanted.

he can feel louis’ length, he can feel himself contorting and squeezing his penis.

 he knows louis feels it too, feels harry’s hole—feels sasha’s cunt.

“am i the best girl you’ve ever had, louis? am i?” harry pants, and beholds the spectacle that is louis tomlinson on the verge of coming. his face is red, and his eyes are squeezed shut, but he keeps on pulling out and then slamming back down.

louis moves faster, and deeper, and better. “jesus, _yes._ the best.”

his feet are curling in a way harry thinks he’s going to break a bone, his hands are grasping the mattress as if his life depended it on it, he feels it coming. then harry cums. white is all over his stomach, louis’ too, and he can even taste some on his mouth. it’s probably the best sex harry’s ever had, and he thinks louis was right, he did destroy him.

harry’s cum seems what sends louis over the edge, and then, he too is coming, an explosion that overcomes his senses.

“amazing.” they both say at the same time, and then harry laughs loudly as louis collapses dead cold on top of him.

he can feel louis’ heartbeat, but harry won’t dwell on that much. he won’t.

“that was really good.” louis says softly with a smile he thinks harry won’t see.

but harry sees; and if a cuddling session wasn’t in the deal, then nobody mentions it.

\--

the next morning louis wakes up to the aroma of waffles. it’s strange because no one in his flat makes waffles, ever.

as he opens his eyes and looks around the room, he seems to forget where he is. he panics for a bit, but then a tossed t-shirt that is certainly not his, makes him recall the previous events. harry, of course.

he sighs happily and quickly puts on a pair of loose pants he finds on a chair. they’re a bit big on him, almost dangling from his hips, but that just makes him smile even wider.

when he gets to the kitchen, he sees a cheerful harry on pajamas pants, shirtless and singing to a tuneless song.

“hiya.” he greets lazily, rubbing a hand on his still sleepy face.

“hey.” harry grins back. “d’you want waffles? i can make some—”

“i love waffles.”

“perfect.”

louis then remembers what he thought the day before, about making harry laugh.

so that’s how they spend their morning: harry cooking them breakfast and louis trying to be silly and making harry laugh.

they end up with full bellies, and lips tasting of sugar and fruit.

they also end up fucking on the kitchen counter, harry pressed up against it and louis thrusting once again. but that’s, that’s something else.

when it’s time for louis to leave, he does so reluctantly, wishing he could stay more time, wishing he could kiss harry a bit more.

but he’s got school, he’s got a job, and harry was just a one night thing.

\--

except it’s not.

a week later harry calls louis, asks him if he wants to meet up again.

louis replies yes embarrassingly fast. but then it’s them again, and laughs and jokes become frantic kisses, and hot bodies pressed against each other.

this time harry rides louis.

he tells harry how gorgeous she is, how beautiful she looks from that angle.

harry gasps and moans and takes louis’ cock and takes control; up and down, it’s like a rhythm they’ve memorized and now runs through their veins.

when they come, it’s even better than the first time.

louis, once again, stays the night, has breakfast, they laugh, and then louis knows it’s not just a fuck.

\--

“i’m going to fucking beat you, styles.” louis says as he nudges harry’s arm, making him drop his video game controller and lose the game.

it’s not as if he was winning, anyway.

“woops.” louis laughs.

“that is not fair. you cheater. fucking asshole.”

“that is funny on so many levels.” louis laughs. harry stands up, all gangly and lovely, as always. “the loser gets the popcorn. go fetch, harold.”

harry harrumphs, but gets the empty bowl anyway and goes to the kitchen.

“you’re like proper boyfriends, now.” niall says, looking up from his phone as he sits on the couch.

louis glares at him, “weren’t you playing fruit ninja or something? fucking creep, stop looking at us.”

niall shrugs, “just saying, man. you definitely look the part. settling down, _finally_.”

“shut up, niall. he’s just having sex with me and it so happens he’s a nice person, wow, big deal.” louis angrily says.

 harry styles is not his boyfriend.

he constantly tells himself that as harry feels warm, and perfect by his side.

\--

then it’s the fucking lingerie.

 _lingerie_.

it’s black and pink, with little frilly bows in it and louis wants to eat harry whole.

louis pulls at the little strings, he bites at them. he kisses harry’s legs and tells her how goddess-like they are, how he’d like her to be his _that fucking instant._

harry mewls at the compliments, he becomes starry eyed and giddy, and louis never wants it to stop.

“whose are you sasha? whose?” louis growls.

harry gasps, still in ecstasy, “yours, lou. i’m your girl.”

“that’s right, only mine.”

when he’s inside her—because harry having a cunt is still a thing between them— he can feel the hotness and the tightness, and still, every time he’s inside harry is the same, it’s still the best. harry still has a cock, of course, and louis takes full advantage of that every instance. he squeezes it, and rubs and then harry moans, raspy and low, until they’re both coming, always seconds apart.

now that he’s friends with harry, he thinks this should be weird, but it’s just not, it comes to them easily and louis wonders if this is how it’s supposed to be.

louis thinks answering to a fucking craiglist ad is the best thing he’s ever done.

\--

they go skating because it’s nice, and it’s december, and harry wants to see louis all cuddled up and with mittens on.

louis looks all small, and he doesn’t know how to skate, so harry takes this opportunity to take his hand and lead his way through the cold ice.

louis grumbles, but doesn’t fight it when harry gets behind him and takes him by the waist.

this time, it’s harry embracing louis, and even though he won’t admit it, louis doesn’t mind one bit. it’s when both are feeling like olympic ice skaters, giving small slides along the ice, still wrapped up in each other, that they fall face flat on the ice. louis rubs his red nose and gives harry a deathly glare when the other boy starts laughing, rubbing his belly.

they laugh for too long that their legs become weak, and it takes them about fifteen minutes before any of them can make it outside the rink.

afterwards they get hot chocolate, and louis sees harry’s green once again.

this time he thinks he doesn’t want harry’s eyes to be anywhere but on him.

\--

apparently, what they have it’s not an exclusive thing.

louis finds out when he’s at harry’s flat, watching a movie with zayn, and waiting for harry to join them.

then he hears the fumbling of keys and a familiar deep voice, louis smiles but then falters because there’s another voice outside; it’s whispering and making harry laugh, louis frowns.

when they enter the flat, the other man, a tall, burly, and faceless man, is sucking on harry’s neck. louis sees red; he _knows_ harry isn’t his boyfriend, but the sight still prickles and makes him want to punch the blond asshole right in the face.

“oh!” harry says surprised as soon as he sees louis and zayn sprawled on his floor. “i thought—i thought you guys were going out.”

“we were waiting for you.” zayn says awkwardly.

louis is staring at harry, but the other boy is looking at the floor, almost as if he were guilty. louis inwardly sighs, it’s not harry’s fault.

“we’ll just leave. sorry. c’mon zayn.” the other two boys stand up and make a quick beeline towards the door.

before they leave, louis catches harry’s eyes. he may be biased, but louis thinks harry’s eyes don’t shine they way they did when they first met.

he smiles bittersweetly, “let’s just go get some fast food, z.”

zayn nods, but he gives louis a look, and it almost feels like pity, like sadness. like he _knows_.

but, there’s nothing to know, louis says to himself. nothing.

\--

when harry is with reed, is fun.

they use wigs, and harry knows the other boy is turned on by sasha.

for a few hours he can forget about louis, he can forget the fact he hadn’t been with anyone else besides him since the first time they met. he forgets that fact because it’s too close to something he knows it’s not there. and it works, for a couple of hours at least.

but then reed asks him, “whose are you, baby? mine?” he whispers with a laugh.

harry opens his eyes in a blink, open wide. the other man doesn’t notice.

harry wants to answer along, but he finds it physically impossible to do so. he knows who he belongs to, and it’s a realization that comes like a cold bucket of water.

he never answers.

::

louis slurps at his spaghetti loudly and annoyingly.

liam frowns at him, niall laughs and imitates him, and zayn snorts with a smile, amused.

harry looks at him with sad, guilty eyes.

he sighs, irritated, and walks stiffly to the kitchen for a glass of water.

harry shouldn’t feel guilty, is the thing. harry didn’t do anything wrong. louis is the one who fucked everything up by falling in love with the boy he has sex with. and now harry feels bad and pities louis, how quaint. well, louis is not a boy who should be pitied.

he goes back to the table where they’re all eating. zayn, liam, and niall are engaged in conversation. harry, of course, is silently looking at the cold meatballs on his plate.

louis sits back and harry lifts his gaze. louis smiles amicably, as if nothing had happened, as if there hasn’t been an invisible barrier between them since harry brought another man to his flat. as if louis doesn’t care.

harry sighs, “listen, louis, last—”

however louis interrupts him, he doesn’t want to hear an apology when there shouldn’t be one. “did you see the man u game yesterday?”

harry flinches and opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something, just doesn’t know if he should. he ends up saying, “yes, good game, wasn’t it?”

louis pretends he’s not hurt. harry does the same.

\--

harry goes to niall’s and louis’ the next week.

as soon as he enters the flat he sees niall eating pizza and watching reruns of friends, laughing his face off. he sits with him, joins the fun.

but he’s also aware of how louis is not there, he doesn’t mention it, he doesn’t want to seem like an over protective boyfriend—especially when he’s not anyone’s boyfriend, much less louis, who’s made it clear it’s strictly platonic between them.

but patience has never been a virtue of harry’s and he ends up breaking, “niall, um, where’s louis.” he tries to sound nonchalant, but even to his own ears it doesn’t seem to work.

niall looks at him with concern in his eyes, like he knows something harry doesn’t, “um, he went out, i think.”

“ _niall_.” harry pushes, frowning.

niall sighs, “i don’t know, he out with some bloke.”

harry’s heart stops. ok, he should’ve seen that coming, he should’ve known this was happening. louis is not his, right? and harry has been with other people too, so why does he feel like he’s just been punched in the gut, that there’s no air around him and he can’t breathe even though he tries and tries?

“oh,ok, cool.” harry should win an award for this heartbreaking performance.

except not really. he’s the worst actor and niall can see right through him. _everyone_ can see right through him, everyone but louis.

\--

“i think we should stop.” harry exhales, not looking at the friend he’s in love with, but a the duckling they’re feeding.

louis doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t think harry knows, but he stops breathing for a moment. why is harry taking away the only thing they have? why, _why_?

“why?” he resumes feeding the ducklings surrounding the park bench they’re sitting in, as if nothing has just happened.

“we’re friends now, right? i just…isn’t it weird for you?” it isn’t weird for harry, but he has to save some dignity for himself. he hopes not touching louis’ body anymore will coax him out of this stupid feeling, maybe he can forget.

 _no_ , louis thinks, “a bit.” he instead says.

harry deflates, a tiny part of him wanted louis to stop him. who is he kidding? all of him burned with the hope of louis stopping him. “yeah, alright.”

“ok.” louis hums.

the ducklings leave, and harry has never felt more alone, even with louis by his side.

\--

niall’s sucking the face of a nameless girl and so, leaves louis and harry fend off for themselves.

they’re at a club, the ones made to have quick sex in the bathroom stalls, where everyone has coke and does blowjobs. coke and cocks.

they’re sitting on a small couch, very much like fish out of the water.

“nice place.” louis says, eyeing the loud club, “if you’re looking for a venereal disease, that is.”

harry laughs whole heartedly, because even if his heart aches, louis is his friend—best friend perhaps—and no one will take that away from him. “yes.”

but then they decide to dance. they’re dancing in the of the chaos, of the fun jumping girls and the boys with roaming hands, and it’s not bad. they get lost in the music, in the colors, in the blurry shapes and the laughs.

louis has been dancing with a group of girls, all laughing and fascinated by him. he likes the attention, and they’re nice girls who listen to his jokes, so he dances with them and drinks and toasts to nonsense. but then his eyes catches a tall lanky boy dancing and laughing his night off with a beefy man, who’s eyeing him with predator eyes and a glint in his eye that louis knows what it means.

he knows what it means because it’s the same look louis gave harry the first time he saw him. it’s a possessive look. when harry wraps his arms around the neck of the ugly man, louis looks away. he drags niall from the girl he’s now kissing and he drives to their flat, leaving harry behind.

\--

the next morning louis wakes up with a slight headache. he didn’t stay too long in the club, but he drank enough for him too feel sick, not too bad like he knows harry gets when he drinks more than he can.

harry.

louis gets a minute memory of last night, of a group of giggling girls, of a dancing niall, and harry getting all handsy with a man.

louis groans and goes to get a glass of water and some pills for his headache.

he checks his phone distractedly: one missed call, and two text messages.

the missed call is his mum, and louis feels a bit guilty, but looks at the text messages.

one is from zayn asking about some oil paintings he must’ve left in his falt. louis rolls his eyes and looks at the last one. it’s from harry. he opens it, and scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.

_louis_

that’s all. that’s all it says.

he sends back a message full of question marks, and leaves his phone to take a shower.

when the water is running and louis has shampoo on his eyes, he wonders if he should’ve called harry. there’s something in his chest that tells him it wasn’t just a meaningless text.

he rinses of as fast as he can, he may be wrong, he knows, maybe harry was just drunk, but either way, he gets out of the shower and goes straight for his phone.

no messages.

louis curses and goes to his room to put on some clothes. the cold air hits him on his wet chest, he’ll catch pneumonia, he’s sure.

his hair is still soaking wet when he leaves niall a note: _gone off to harry’s_.

he grabs the keys from the table and is gone like a lightning bolt. louis might’ve _almost_ run over someone. he’s not sure, harry is the only thing in his mind at the moment.

he arrives at the flat; it’s locked, but louis knows just enough about his best friend’s flat to know just the exact way to open it: two jiggles and a push to the left, another to the front and viola.

he enters the dark flat, it’s eerily quiet, which is unusual, harry often fills it with music, while zayn’s laughter echoes through the compacted walls.

he walks to zayn’s room firs: he’s not there. louis exhales and walks to harry’s room next. but.

it’s empty.

his eyes scan the room. there’s an unmade bed, and he can spot the jeans harry wore yesterday thrown carelessly over a lamp.

louis watches them, confused.

but where’s harry? louis can hear the beating of his own erratic heart. can feel the beginnings of sweat on his forehead.

as if synchronized, he hears a small sniff. he listens closer and more carefully.

there are sniffs coming from the closet. he approaches it quickly, not scared of what he might find.

when he opens it: harry.

harry in a little ball, he only has his briefs and he looks younger than ever, vulnerable with his legs bent so his face is covered by them. louis’ hands are shaking by the sight, feels his whole body stop.

harry lifts his head, it red, and full of tears, contorted in pain.

louis rushes towards him, whispering, “harry, harry.” like a sad mantra he’s always said his whole life.

harry breaks into more tears, letting louis embrace him and soothe him, “lou.” he whispers so softly, louis thinks it might’ve been just an exhale. “a monster.”

that, he hears clearly.

he grabs harry’s face with his hands, looking straight at him, “what?”

“i’m a monster, he said that.” harry stops crying, says is clear as day.

louis doesn’t know what harry’s talking about, but he knows one thing: harry’s not a monster, he’s the most beautiful being louis knows.

louis kisses his temple, “no, harry. you’re beautiful.”

hugging harry feels like hugging a star, so hot and burning, radiating off life. but right now, harry feels like the star is getting cold, as if somebody just turned off the switch.

“what happened harry?” louis asks, both boys on the floor.

“he was here with me, after the club. he was kissing me and then. sasha.” harry chokes out, “he hit me.”

harry is still not making much sense, but louis knows enough to figure it out. harry came home with the man from yesterday, harry told him about sasha, the man got mad, taunted him and hit him. louis feels mad, he feels as if he’s going to explode, he really, really wants to _kill_ this man. but he also feels infinitesimally sad. how can there be someone who can say horrible things to this boy? to this boy who just loves, loves and gives, and louis is in love with him.  

now louis is the one who feels like a star, star ready to burn and explode and implode all at the same time because he can’t control himself anymore.

“i love you.” he whispers into his ear. he feels the air leave him. he might be imagining things but he can feel harry’s heart stop for a seconds, and when it comes back to life, it beats faster than it ever had before.

as he exhales those words, harry breathes them in. he feels life inside him, as if he’s swallowing the world louis just gave him.

“i love every single _you_ , harry.” louis chokes out.

harry kisses him, he puts in the kiss the words louis just said.

they’ve kissed a hundred times, but this feels like the first time.

\--

when louis has no clothes, and it’s just his body against harry’s, hot and touching, lighting up like— not candles, but more like lightning bolts ready to ignite. when he’s kissing him like this is the last time they’ll see each other, and harry is on top of him, ready to push in, to be inside louis for the first time, louis realizes it’s never been like this, with harry ready to push, ready to give in to louis.

it’s the first time louis tells _harry_ (harry, harry, harry) he’s beautiful.

it’s the first time louis gasps _harry_ a thousand times instead of sasha. it’s the first time their bodies are chest to chest, perfectly aligned. it’s the first time they hold hands as harry thrusts in; it’s the first time harry screams desperately ‘mine’ and means it in every way possible, and yes, louis is irrevocably and forever his. it’s the first time they make love.

but it is not the last time.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> the smut was horrible, and the ending was cheesy, woops.   
> feedback is nice :) so kudos and comments are the beeest! yes?


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